


heal

by bukkunmoonsin (bukkunkun)



Series: The X-Men AU No One Asked For [6]
Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mutants, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, mama!isabel i love, this is literally bb!joven + mama!isabel what else do u want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunmoonsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The army was <i>fucking lucky</i> they had a <i>Mapalad</i> like Isabel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heal

**Author's Note:**

> [original post here](http://bukkun-moonsin.tumblr.com/post/131733154993/heal).

The army was  _fucking lucky_  they had a  _Mapalad_  like Isabel.

“Someone get that woman! To me! Right. Now!”

The tent was always full of action, nurses hurrying about carting soldiers in and out, wrapping bandages, and cleaning wounds. In the middle of it all, Isabel was the busiest woman of all of them.

“Get some more lavender! Selya! Get this bullet out of him first! Maria! The gauze!”

Joven was a helpful boy at a time like this. He phased in and out of the tent, through people, to get people in and out faster than the young girls pushing the recently-healed soldiers back outside. He would tug on people’s wrists, and practically drag them out of the tent.

One time the young man got a bullet whiz past his cheek, giving him a cut that stung like a burn. He hurried to her, tears in his eyes at the pain, and Isabel’s foul mood dissipated like vapour.

“D-Doktora,” Joven stammered, fighting to keep his voice steady, “I…”

“Shh, come here,  _hijo_.” She hushed, “This is going to hurt.”

Joven closed his eyes, and nodded so wildly his glasses went askew. Isabel chuckled fondly, and set them back, before she cupped his cheek gently. He winced, and hissed a little, but he soon let out an aborted little yelp as Isabel willed his flesh to stitch back together. She hushed him again, gently, and patted his newly-healed skin, soft like a baby’s, gave him a little smile.

“Chin up, boy. We’re in a war. You’ll take more pain than that.” She told him, her voice missing the bite she usually had when she spoke like that, and Joven looked at her, eyes wide and innocent.

Deep inside her, she wished this boy—barely a young man—never had to see war like this.

She gave his cheek a pinch, and let go of him. “Go. See if anyone needs help.”

He nodded at her, and hurried away, phasing through people and the tent again, off to drag another wounded— _dying_ —back to her to live and see another day.

Isabel turned back to her job. The screams, the blood, the pain—she’s used to it all.

She hopes Joven wouldn’t have to.


End file.
